


On the Desk, in the Dark, I Belong to You

by Lywinis



Series: One Shots -- Capsicoul [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Capsicoul - Freeform, Established Relationship, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 05:39:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/694775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lywinis/pseuds/Lywinis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are reasons to like Phil Coulson's office. The main one is sitting right in front of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Desk, in the Dark, I Belong to You

Steve liked it best in Phil’s office.

There was always the hint of danger – just the hint, because Phil always locked the doors, always turned the cameras off, but it was still there, the feeling of not doing what he was supposed to be doing in SHIELD headquarters. It smacked of the forbidden, and it was something that caused a curl of heat to slide down into Steve’s belly as he seated himself on the blotter, the folders Phil had been working on swept away in his haste to get Steve bare and raw and aching.

It was the first time Steve had seen Phil desperate, a moan that sent a shiver skittering up his spine escaping the agent’s lips as his breath puffed against Steve’s bare stomach. His shirt, soft from a recent wash was rucked up, parted with hasty fingers and wet, open-mouthed kisses against bare skin as Phil laved his way down Steve’s stomach.

Steve hissed as Phil bit the skin of his stomach, a bruise that would fade in record time, but one that marked Steve just as surely as if he’d tattooed his intent in neon ink. Another bite to the jut of Steve’s hip bone, and then Phil was inside his pants, calloused hands massaging him through the fabric of his briefs, and Steve shuddered, Phil’s name rolling across lips and teeth and tongue and jumping straight to his cock as Phil’s hot, wet mouth closed about him through the straining fabric.

Steve leaned back, one palm braced on the hardwood of the desktop, fingers curled over the edge as Phil’s tongue traced the line of him through his briefs. His other hand, larger than it should have been, slid through the short hair at the base of Phil’s neck, and that’s when Steve felt the shudder through the agent. The calm, possessed man he knew was gone, and it was just Phil, just this man who could undo him with the snap of his fingers, and that made all the difference.

Phil’s pupils were blown wide as he looked up at Steve, face flushed and almost bucking back against his hand like a cat pleased with the attention. Steve knew his own eyes had to be just as dark with it, and he swallowed, nodding down at Phil. The tension seeped out of Phil then, and the elastic of Steve’s briefs slid down as Phil hooked his thumbs in the sides. Steve arched damn near off the desk when Phil’s hand closed around him, warm and gentle and almost tentative.

Phil’s hands…Steve could spend days drawing Phil’s hands in every iteration and wouldn’t be able to cover half of it. There was a portion that would always be missing, the way the trigger callouses glided over his skin, reverent in their touch, another form of hero worship. Now, Phil’s hand stroked down, then up, giving a slow twist that stole Steve’s breath as Phil’s thumb traced the tip of his cock.

Phil licked his lips as he concentrated, and Steve fisted his hand in the short hair at Phil’s neck, drawing out a moan, low and reedy, from the man’s lips. Their eyes locked, and Phil held his gaze as he dipped his head, his lips closing about Steve’s tip.

Steve swore under his breath, and Phil flushed, pleased with the attention. He was good, practiced and eager, and the flat of his tongue on the underside made ripples in the pool of heat gathering in Steve’s belly. He groaned, shifting back, his hips jutting forward to give Phil better access, and Phil obliged, rolling the desk chair forward as he slid himself down so far that his nose brushed the soft skin of Steve’s groin.

Steve swore his eyes rolled back in his damn head.

Phil just hummed with pleasure, eyes up, fixed on Steve’s face in adoration. His mouth was hot, molten with it, and Steve bucked up on the downward sweep of Phil’s mouth, meeting him halfway. His breathing was already past the point of a sharp pant, the thread of arousal in his core drawing tight even as Phil worked him over. He’d never lasted long under Phil’s lips and hands, and it was a source of smug pride on Phil’s part.

He closed his eyes, breathing short and through his nose as Phil worked him over, tongue sliding along the sensitive skin at the head of his cock. His moan was choked, the press of Phil’s palm at the bone of his hip, the hand squeezing in possession was enough to undo him, and he gave a strangled cry as his hips jerked up, Phil swallowing all of it and then some, the rasp of his tongue cleaning Steve off until it was on the painful side of sensitive.

Phil sat back with a sigh, a thumb coming up and wiping at a spot he missed. He cleaned his thumb with a flicker of pink tongue and looked up to find Steve watching him, disheveled and raw on his desk like an unfinished report. His smile was placid, and yet the slightest bit smug as he raked his eyes over Steve, the bites that would fade before the super soldier got home, the flush breaking over his chest and face, the way his hand, heedless of his strength, had cracked the surface of Phil’s desk with an iron grip.

Phil shook his head, and Steve looked down, the handprint clearly marking his presence in the office. He turned to apologize, and found Phil looking at him, his eyes dark and hooded. Steve’s pulse jumped, and the tremor of want sizzled straight down his spine.

“I’m going to have to requisition a new desk, Captain.” Phil’s smile was slow, lazy, and just the slightest touch of wicked.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Steve said, embarrassed and pleased in equal parts. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“I imagine that you will,” Phil replied. The promise in his eyes made Steve’s hands twitch. “We’ll talk about it later.”

Steve liked it best in Phil’s office, and that was the reason why.

**Author's Note:**

> So, remember when I said I loved Orb01’s artwork?
> 
> Well, I’mma say it again. She posted a piece (COMPLETELY AND TOTALLY NSFW) that inspired me, and the next thing I knew, I was staring at a flash fic. Go look at her lovely artwork orb01.tumblr.com!
> 
> Thank you for that, Orb. I think I might have died and gone to heaven.


End file.
